A Trial of Hearts
by Shaded Mazoku
Summary: A story of inner conflicts. MagusxFlea, hinted CyrusxGlenn. [ABANDONED]
1. Prologue: Inner Longing

Chrono1

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger doesn't belong to me. If it did, Flea would be a main character. I'm not making any money of this. Don't sue, please?  
  
Author's notes: This is Yaoi! Male/male relationships that is. Also contains some graphis violence and sexual acts. Hints at non-con sex as well. This isn't betaed. Oh yeah, Magus might seem a bit OOC. I was trying to portray his inner despair over loosing Schala.

A Trial of Hearts

By Shaded Mazoku

Magus looked up from his book to see Lucca shiver. He smiled slightly, knowing very well that being stuck in a cold room in the basement of Guardia Castle was the last thing the scientist wanted, especially with him as a companion. The King has ushered them down there, to make a wedding gift for Crono and Marle. Lucca had come up with an idea for a gift but she wasn't sure how to do it.

Not that Magus cared. He had only accepted so that he could have a look at the Castle Library. After all, what did Crono and Marle mean to him? Nothing, really. All that mattered to him was Schala. Hopefully, one of these books would contain clues as to how he could re-open the Gates and rescue her. He closed his eyes, taking a brief break. Too much reading could be bad for him. 

His eyes snapped open again quite soon, though, as Lucca kicked her invention, hurting her foot in the process. "Stupid piece of junk!" She spat, glaring at the heap of metal. Magus snickered. "What did that pile of shrapnel do to you?" he asked, something he knew was a snide tone obvious in his voice. Lucca turned her glare at him, but Magus wasn't affected. He had received those kinds of glares from Flea all the time. 

Magus shook his head and wondered why he had been thinking so much about the past lately. He started to seem pathetic, even to himself. With another shake of his head, he turned his head back to the book he had been reading.

It was an old book. In fact, if Magus' mind wasn't deluding him, it seemed to be from Zeal. The style of the cover was one often used in Zeal, and it was an odd dept to it. It wasn't uncommon for scribes in Zeal to put protection spells on their books. That did explain how it could have survived for so long.

Magus smiled faintly at the memory. Today seemed to be a day of remembering. He turned the page slowly, feeling oddly dizzy. Suddenly noticing how little light there was in the room, he called upon a small ball of magical light. He started reading, not knowing what to expect. 

Suddenly, he noticed something that could be what he was looking for. Shivering in anticipation, he started reading the next paragraph. 

"To control the flow of time," was the headline. Magus read on, wondering if he had found what he had been looking for such a long time. "To accomplish this, you must find a member of the Banished Ones, one who is gifted with magic, and you must bind this Banished One to you by the ritual described below. Use then the Banished One's energy to fuel your strength and cast the spell below this text." 

Magus read through the text again. And again. "So close" He whispered. "So very close" He threw the book into the opposing wall with all his strength. "And then I can't do it!" he growled. A small sound next to him reminded him that Lucca was still in the room. She was looking rather pale by now. Magus ignored her and stormed out, still furious with everything.

As he entered his house, a small hut he had bought on a remote island, he picked up the closest thing he could find, a chair, and threw it into a wall. It shattered with a satisfying crash. More furniture followed the chair, flying in every direction and shattering on the walls. Finally, there was no more furniture left in the house. 

Magus dropped to his knees in the middle of the mess that had been his interior once, and buried his face in his hands. "Schala," he whispered, " Why did you have to leave me all alone?" He looked up against the ceiling. "I'm so lonely without you. I don't know what to do." Tears started running down his face, and he longed so badly for his sister. "I'm afraid, Schala. I don't want to feel like this anymore. I need you to here with me! I need you"

""

Outside, the sky opened and rain started to pour down.

~ TBC


	2. Part 2: Of Mystics and memories...

When dawn came, and the rain stopped pouring down, Magus awoke to find himself lying on the floor, the furniture of his home surronding him, thrashed to pieces after his fit last night

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger doesn't belong to me. If it did, Flea would be a main character. It belongs to Square and their creative minds. I'm not making any money of this. Don't sue, please?  
  
Author's notes: This is Yaoi! Male/male relationships that is. Also contains some graphic violence and sexual acts. Hints at non-con sex as well. This isn't betaed. Oh yeah, Magus might seem a bit OOC. I was trying to portray his inner despair over loosing Schala.

A Trial of Hearts

By Shaded Mazoku

Part 2: Of Mystics and memories…

When dawn came, and the rain stopped pouring down, Magus awoke to find himself lying on the floor, the furniture of his home surrounding him, thrashed to pieces after his fit last night. He got up and stretched, feeling a bit stiff. "Not very surprising, considering where I slept," he thought, yawning. He tried to remember what had caused the massive outburst he'd had last night. 

"Oh…" he whispered as he remembered. He kicked something that might have been a table once out of the way. Walking over to the window, he looked out at the clear sky. "Strange," he noted, "I could have sworn it was raining." He closed his eyes, and let his head drop. "I suppose I have to fix this mess, huh?" he said to no one in particular. Channeling his magic, he focused on fixing the furniture, putting them back together. "That's better…"

He sat down at his desk and tried to cheer himself up by reading about magic. It didn't work. He kept thinking of the past. Not only of Schala, but also of other things in his past. His mother was one of these memories, telling him to let Schala work in peace. Another memory was Ozzie, hovering in the air and yelling. The amphibian's voice with its odd dialect told him what a cold-hearted cretin he was. Magus closed his eyes and let his head drop onto the book on his desk. He had so many bad memories, and not one single good one. "It's like nobody ever cared about me. Except Schala, of course," he thought. 

Uninvited, another voice slipped into his memory. "You're an ice-cube, Magus." Flea's words, uttered when he last talked to the pink-haired magician. "All you see is what you're frozen onto, your sister's memory. Maybe if you took the time to see how other people felt about you, you'd be happier." Magus had glared at Flea and told the Mystic to go away, because the only thing that mattered was Schala.

He opened his eyes again and slowly looked out the window. "Was Flea right? Should I try to see what other people feel? Damn it, Schala, why did you have to leave me alone? I need you with me…" He sighed, and got up. He knew that he was running out of food. "Might as well go to buy some food. Starving myself to death won't help Schala." He got his scythe from the corner where he'd left it, and left the house, using magic to lock the door.

In the nearest village, children were playing with their pets in the market-square. Their mothers were chatting about the events of the last week. Magus didn't feel like he belonged there. He shook his head slowly and walked over to one of the stands, preparing to tell the merchant what he needed. However, the merchant, a plump, middle-aged woman who smelled like cabbage, had other plans. As soon as she looked up and saw Magus, she gasped in horror. Magus, snapping out of his daze, got ready for an attack. It never came.

Instead, the woman looked at Magus, her large eyes filled with tears. "You poor dear!" she said. "You look so pale and malnutritious. Don't you have a wife to cook for you?" Magus blinked, feeling rather dumbfounded. He was not used to people mothering him. The plump woman smiled at him. "Oh, don't you worry dear. I've got just the thing to fix you up!" She started piling things into a basket. Magus knew that he should tell her to mind her own business, but he couldn't muster the strength. 

He accepted the basket from her and paid for the goods. Looking over the supplies, he realized that the woman had taken way to little money for all this. He turned to confront her about it, but she just smiled at him and waved. Magus shrugged and smiled slightly before leaving. The woman had managed to cheer him up a little. "Malnutritious…" He wasn't even sure that was a word.

On his way back, he dropped by Fiona's shrine. He didn't know why, but the shrine always made him feel more calm and serene. He sat down at one of the benches and closed his eyes, ignoring the odd looks the nuns gave him. One of them had squeaked as he entered. Still, Magus thought, he did look somewhat frightening. He sighed and opened his eyes again, giving the nuns an apologetic look. One of them, who seemed quite young, smiled back. He just leaned back and closed his eyes again.

Sitting there like that, with his eyes closed and just listening to the chanting of the nuns, he felt relaxed. It was nice, he mused, to just relax and not think of anything. All his troubles were washed away, leaving him serene and calm. 

It also left him with a nagging feeling of having forgotten something. Opening his eyes yet again, he tried to remember what it was. "Something about a book…" Suddenly, his head snapped up. "Of course!" Startling the nuns, he got up and left, flying in direction of Guardia Castle.

"How could I forget that?" he asked himself. The book he had thrown into the wall yesterday held not only the secret of controlling time, but also a very strong offensive spell he was researching. "Damn. I need that book…"

Suddenly, a beam of what appeared to be brilliant, liquid light knocked him out of the air. He reacted immediately, and twisted in the air, using his magic to soften the impact. Sitting up, he looked around to localize his attacker. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he twirled around to look. He had some slight problems seeing, though, because the attack had opened a cut over his left eye and blood was trickling into his eye.

A shape darted out of sight as he turned, diving into the trees. Magus cursed and followed, scythe ready for battle. Whoever his attacker was, the person in question was very fast. Even Magus, with his ability to fly, had problems following. He started preparing to cast Dark Matter, but another blast of liquid light made him lose his concentration. Hissing, he came to a halt, listening carefully.

A very soft sound, so weak that most people wouldn't have noticed it, told him that his attacker was behind him. Tightening his grip on his scythe, he yet again prepared to cast Dark Matter. The familiar feeling of energy flowing through him was welcomed. He could feel the magic web that all things were a part of. Just out of curiosity, he reached carefully out with his mind, trying to find his opponent's magic structure. When he found it, he blinked. His mysterious attacker was a Mystic. Magus couldn't remember when he'd last had fought a Mystic with this much power.

Shaking his head to rid himself of memories, he cast Dark Matter in the direction of his opponent, only to find that the Mystic was no longer there. A blast of what appeared to be daggers of energy flew towards him, giving away the attacker's position. Magus dodged and answered with a Dark Bomb. 

A small hiss from the direction of his opponent told Magus that his spell had hit. He strode towards the bushes where he was pretty sure that the Mystic was hiding. Even though Dark Bomb was a fairly weak spell, it could still kill a Mystic. Therefore, Magus felt safe. 

That was a big mistake. As soon as he touched the bushes, a blast of dazzling light hit him, blinding him and leaving him vulnerable. Suddenly, something sharp was being held against his throat. Magus stiffened and stood as still as possible, waiting for his vision to return. 

When it did, he waited for the right moment, and grabbed his opponent, throwing the Mystic to the ground. Magus smiled maliciously, and held his scythe to his attacker's neck. "Move, and I'll decapitate you!" he warned.

Magus looked as his opponent and hissed in shock. The Mystic looked up at him with hate shining from deep, pink eyes (1), set in a face framed by long pink hair.

"Flea?"

~TBC

So, What do you think? Review, please? I'm actually quite satisfied with this. And I have a very good idea where I want this story to go. Oh, and the chapter is going to get gradually darker from here…

(1): I have no idea what color Flea's eyes are. I actually think they are dark blue, but pink's so much more exotic…


	3. Part 3: Discovery

More of my insanity hms Normal hms 7 1169 2001-10-16T13:42:00Z 2001-10-17T19:52:00Z 2 1034 5899 hmsh 49 11 7244 9.2812 21 

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger doesn't belong to me. If it did, Flea would be a main character. It belongs to Square and their creative minds. I'm not making any money of this. Don't sue, please?  
  
Author's notes: This is Yaoi! Male/male relationships that is. Also contains some graphic violence and sexual acts. Hints at non-con sex as well. This isn't betaed. Oh yeah, Magus might seem a bit OOC. I was trying to portray his inner despair over loosing Schala.

A Trial of Hearts

By Shaded Mazoku

Part 3: Discoveries

Magus was suddenly stunned. He had great difficulties believing his own two eyes. In his confusion, he dropped his scythe. That was his second big mistake that day. 

Flea got up and scratched Magus' face, drawing blood. The movement itself was too fast for Magus to avoid it. He hissed and took a step backwards, blood dripping down his face. Flea also took a step back, glaring. 

Magus took that opportunity to straighten up and glare back at the Mystic. He was shocked by how Flea looked, though. As the vainest creature Magus knew, Flea had always strived to look as dazzling as possible. Usually with the help of expensive dresses and a kind of paint the Mystics had developed for use on faces.

Now, however, Flea was wearing the ragged remains of a light pink dress, tattered and grimed with dirt. The cross-dresser's long pink hair, usually braided into a single thick braid, was now hanging loose around him. It was as grimed as the dress, and since Magus had last seen Flea, it had grown much longer and was now knee-length. There were dark rings around his eyes and it looked as though he hadn't slept for ages. The Mystic's small slender body was covered in cuts and bruises. Still, even though he looked like that, Flea still managed to look very feminine and pretty.

Flea apparently disliked being looked at, because he let another of the light blasts he had used earlier explode on Magus. Magus instinctively lifted his cloak to protect his eyes. The blasts didn't really hurt, but they were very annoying. Besides, knowing Flea, he suspected them of having effects on status. _I'll just have to make him stop using those blasts,_ he thought. _I'll find out how he got here later_. He prepared to cast Fire 2, which was one of his least damaging spells.

He didn't get a chance to do that, though, as Flea grabbed the discarded scythe and swung it at him. The cross-dressing magician might not know how to handle a scythe, but Magus wasn't going to stand around waiting for him to learn. He dodged the attack and tried to trip the Mystic, cursing the creature's swiftness. Flea was once again too fast. He dropped the scythe, though, as it was too heavy for him. Magus grasped the weapon in the air and swung it at Flea, his resolve about taking the magician alive long forgotten. 

Flea seemed intent on killing Magus as well. He held a long dagger in his hand, probably the same that he had used to threaten him earlier.  The Mystic's eyes were gleaming with something that could only be described as bloodlust. Magus actually felt worried for a brief moment. Flea might not be very strong, but he had an insane expression on his face. Magus had never seen that before.

Flea hissed and leaped forward, dagger ready for attack. The blade slashed through the air and into Magus' shoulder, sinking into the flesh and imbedding itself in the bone. Magus hissed as pain shot through his body in lightening. He ripped the dagger out of his body and gasped slightly as blood started to pour out of the wound. Snarling, he threw the dagger at Flea, who managed to dodge, but not fast enough. A deep cut was opened on the Mystic's temple. 

Magus smiled faintly as he saw the damage he had caused. It also gave him an advantage, because the pain the wound caused distracted the Mystic. The blood seeped out of the wound and stained Flea's skin crimson. Flea didn't take this very lightly and lounged himself at Magus, nails digging into skin, drawing blood. Magus, not prepared for the attack, fell backwards, Flea on top of him. The slender Mystic made a hissing sound and clawed at any exposed flesh he could find.

Magus growled and flipped them both around, pinning Flea's arms to the ground using his weight. He was now in a perfect position to stare into the Mystic's pink eyes. He noted that the area around the eyes were red, as if the other had been crying. Flea had been tossing and twisting underneath him ever since he had flipped them around, but was now going limp. Magus smiled, feeling a bit more confident by now.

Flea didn't give up that easily, though. As soon as he felt Magus relax slightly, he sunk his teeth into Magus' already wounded shoulder. Flea might not be very strong or very powerful, but he had sharp nails and even sharper teeth, and he knew very well how to use them.

Magus roared in agony as Flea's teeth sank into his wounded shoulder. Pain rippled through his body, making him grit his teeth. He grabbed Flea's hair and pulled the vicious Mystic away, slamming his head into the ground. Flea's eyes rolled backwards and he passed out, leaving Magus to tend his wound.

He ripped a strip of his cloak and made a crude bandage, tying it around his wound. First when he had finished that task did he look at Flea, who was still unconscious. _Funny, _Magus thought, _Flea look almost peaceful like this. _He lifted his scythe of the ground and stood up, lifting the weapon._ One strike is all it will take, _he thought. He was just getting ready to swing his scythe down and behead the Mystic when he noticed something on his neck.

Dropping the scythe, he bent down and carefully turned Flea's head so that he could have a better look. A long scar trailed over the Mystic's neck. _Someone tried to cut his throat,_ Magus realized. He felt cold inside. Even though he had been ready to kill Flea just moments earlier, the straight line of the scar showed that whoever had done this; they had done it when Flea wasn't expecting it. It struck Magus as a horrible thing to do, attempt to kill someone when they were defenseless. 

Magus slowly cradled Flea in his arms and got up. He dismissed his scythe, having no use for it right now. Lifting himself of the ground, he took of towards Guardia Castle.

*     *     *     *     *

The world slowly slid back in focus. He was floating, or so it felt. It also felt very safe and warm. But everything was dark, and he couldn't grasp the reason. He felt the dark calling for him, and although he struggled, he fell back into nothingness.

*     *     *     *     *

Magus landed in front of the castle. For a while, he had been sure that Flea was going to wake up, but he had luckily remained asleep. He still wondered how Flea had gotten here and why he was here, but in the condition the Mystic was in right now; he was not fit for answering questions. In fact, he wasn't fit for doing anything at all. _I'll take him to Marle_, Magus thought. _She might be a stupid princess, but she's a decent healer_. Flea stirred in his arms and Magus decided to move faster.

~TBC

Author's note: I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I have a minor writer's block right now.


	4. Part 4: Alliance?

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger doesn't belong to me. If it did, Flea would be a main character. It belongs to Square and their creative minds. I'm not making any money of this. Don't sue, please?  
  
Author's notes: This is Yaoi! Male/male relationships, that is. Also contains some graphic violence and sexual acts. Hints at non-con sex as well. This isn't beta-ed. Oh yeah; Magus might seem a bit OOC. I was trying to portray his inner despair over loosing Schala.

A Trial of Hearts

By Shaded Mazoku

Part 4: Alliance?

Lucca yawned. She was very tired, but she had finally finished the wedding gift. At least that was a relief. Currently, she was listening to Marle, who was talking about her plans for the wedding. Lucca found it pretty dull, but pretended to listen for the sake of their friendship. Still, she whished something would happen.                                                                                     She got her wish. Suddenly, Magus came striding into the room, a pink and white bundle in his arms. "Marle, come here!" Marle rose and walked over to Magus at once, Lucca following. There was a nasty wound on Magus' shoulder, but the man pushed Marle away as she tried to examine the wound closer, and pushed the bundle into her arms. He then turned and stalked over to the window, staring outside.                                                                                     Lucca ignored him, and set about unwinding the white cloak wrapped around the bundle. The material was ripped and stained, but it couldn't hide the fact that it had once been a quality cloak. She noticed that it once might have had a pink border. The cloth finally gave away, revealing a rather familiar face. Marle gave an undignified squeak and dropped the unconscious body.

*****  *****  *****

Magus smiled dryly as he watched the silly princess drop Flea to the floor with a squeak. Lucca was reacting rather differently, storming over to him and starting to yell. Magus ignored her, instead focusing at Flea, who was starting to move. He pushed Lucca out of the way, and strode over to Flea. The Mystic was starting to open his eyes, looking rather dazed. Magus smiled, a wicked smile that had been known to frighten Mystics before, and knocked Flea in the back of his head, rendering him unconscious again.                                                   "Are you out of your mind, Magus? How can you bring her here? She's a Mystic, damn it!" Lucca yelled. Magus noted with some amusement that Lucca referred to Flea as a female. Not that he could blame her. Flea had fooled him at first, too. The Mystic was too pretty for his own sake. "Flea attacked me," he said, wondering whether he should sort out the gender mistake. He decided not to. It might be amusing to see Flea's reaction when he woke. "She is supposed to be in 600 AD, not here. I want you to heal her so I can find out how she got here." Marle stared at him, disbelief clearly visible in her features.                                                 "Are you out of your mind? You want me to heal **that**? No way!" She stated, crossing her arms. Magus advanced on her, glaring. For once, the princess didn't give in. "No!" Magus sighed. Marle gave him a headache even when they weren't arguing. Suddenly, he remembered something. "Well," he said, shrugging, "I guess I'll just leave Flea here then. I have no room for a wounded Mystic. I'm sure she'll find someone to take care of her. She's an expert when it comes to charming males you know. Just don't leave her alone with Chrono. That might be hazardous."                                                                                                      Marle paled visibly as he spoke, to the point of trembling. "If I heal her, will you take her with you?" she asked quickly. Magus shrugged again. "Perhaps, if she stops trying to kill her." Noticing the shocked look on Marle's face, he smiled and spoke again. "The point is, as long as she's healed, she will have no need for assistance. You know how most men can't resist to help a damsel in distress." The princess nodded sadly and kneeled by Flea's side. "I'll heal her," she said, and started concentrating.                                                                           Magus grinned to himself. Human minds were so easily manipulated. Even Mystics were more of a challenge. "Not much more of a challenge," he thought, remembering how easily he had taken control over them, "but more challenging." Lucca's voice suddenly interrupted his musings. "That was plain sneaky, Magus. You know how much she fears loosing Chrono. You were there after he died. You saw how she reacted." Magus laughed, but his laugh was bitter. "At least she got him back, and now they're getting married. I've only cared for one person in the world, and I'll never get her back. Ever though about that?"                 He turned to glare at Lucca. She swallowed and took a step back. "Both of you have been given a chance to fix the past. She got her beloved Chrono back and you got to go back and rescue your mother. Ever considered that I would give anything for such a chance?" Lucca was staring at him now, but Magus took no notice. "The only thing I have left of my past is my magic, this pedant and that damned Mystic!" He pointed to Flea. "Sure, I lied to her, but I don't really care. All I want is to find a way to rescue my sister, and then I want to be left alone with her. I don't need you moralizing me, Marle's whining or any other human telling me what to do, and I definitely do not need Flea to try killing me!"                                           Lucca, who was looking rather pale by now, blinked. "Then why do you want her healed?" she asked, adjusting her glasses. Magus closed his eyes and growled, angry with himself for showing so much emotion. "I want to know how she got here," he told the scientist. "She might be the key to time travel. Flea belongs in 600 AD, after all." Lucca was just about to answer when Marle suddenly screamed in pain.

- TBC

Author's note: I have been very busy with schoolwork lately, but I'll try to get next chapter up sooner. I started writing this the 6th of November, and it's currently 12th of February. And 02: 02 AM, too. Oh, well… …The next chapter will focus on Flea, not Magus. Sorry to any Magus fans, but I feel that Flea need some time in the spot light. Oh, and to those of you that like Marle, I know I made her a tad bit annoying in this, but she'll get better, I promise…


	5. Part 5: Those who were left behind...

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger doesn't belong to me. If it did, Flea would be a main character. It belongs to Square and their creative minds. I'm not making any money of this. Don't sue, please?  
  
Author's notes: This is Yaoi! Male/male relationships, that is. Also contains some graphic violence and sexual acts. Hints at non-con sex as well. This isn't beta-ed. Oh yeah; Magus might seem a bit OOC. I was trying to portray his inner despair over loosing Schala.

/……/ = Flashbacks…

A Trial of Hearts

By Shaded Mazoku

Part 4: Those who was left behind.

As the pain dulled and disappeared, Flea's eyes fluttered open. Someone was sitting over him, and as he tried to sit up, a hand touched his shoulder. At the touch, he felt like ice seeped into his heart. He started remembering things he'd tried for so long to forget.

/ Lying on a cold stone floor, Flea cried as he was being hold down. He tried to pull free, but there were too many, and they were too strong. His clothes were being torn of, leaving him naked in the cold cell. Some one, larger than the others, was coming closer, laughing. The newcomer grasped his hips, thrusting into him, tearing him apart from the inside. Flea screamed. /

Without thinking, he sank his teeth into the hand on his shoulder, ripping into the flesh. He was rewarded by the sound of someone screaming. A woman. Flea smiled weakly and licked the blood of his lips. He sat up and looked around. He was in a castle, he realized. Guardia Castle, if he wasn't mistaken. The girl who'd screamed was sitting on the floor next to him, staring at her hand with a shocked expression. Flea smirked slightly.

       The girl looked uncannily like Queen Leene, actually, although she seemed younger. Flea recognized her as one of the girls who had been with the frog when they attacked Magus' castle. The other girl was staring at him, like she'd seen a ghost. Another person was also looking at him. Magus. 

      Flea looked at the mage, who was just looking at him, like he had never done anything wrong in his life. "_That's not fair_," Flea thought. "_He has no right to look so smug. Don't he realize what he did when he betrayed us?" _He growled and got to his feet, getting ready to cast a spell. Suddenly, he remembered that he could no longer use his spells. The ones who'd held him captive had made sure of that. Lifting a hand to his neck, Flea sat back down, reality suddenly hitting him.

      He was powerless. None of his magic could be used without incantations, and since he no longer could use his voice, his magic could no longer help him. And here, he had no Slash to charm into protecting him. If Magus decided to kill him, he wouldn't have a chance. Even those two girls could kill him easily. 

      Flea noticed the tears that had started running down his face, but he ignored them, not willing to even move. He'd fled from captivity so that he could rest and heal, and then go back and have his revenge. But now, as he was finally free, he had no way of getting that revenge. His potential was as great as ever, but he couldn't use spells. He was totally helpless. It frightened him.

      "_And he is to blame for it all,"_ Flea thought, looking at Magus. "_He left to go looking for his precious sister, leaving me, Slash and Ozzie behind. How could he even think that Ozzie would be of any use? It took a year before we were all but defeated, and when those other Mystics came, we were easy prey_." Flea closed his eyes and shivered as a wave of sorrow and fear washed over him. 

      He envied Slash and Ozzie, really. They'd been killed swiftly, not having to suffer much. They had forced Flea to watch. He could still remember it, even after all the time that had passed, he could still remember his fellow Mystic Generals being decapitated, could still remember the sickening sound the axe made as it sliced through flesh and bone before imbedding itself in the wooden block.

      He could still remember screaming, tears streaming down his face. True, he'd never liked Ozzie, but even he did not deserve that. He'd never been a threat to anyone. And Slash, annoying as though he could be, had been Flea's only friend. Flea realized that tears were pouring down his face again, like they had done so often in the past. 

      Once, he would rather have died than let anyone see him cry. Once, he had been such a vain creature, always fussing with his hair or his make-up, trying to underline his beautiful appearance. Now, he wished he'd been born looking as repulsive as most Mystics. Maybe if he had been ugly, those bastards would have left him alone. They had ruined him now, he could not bear even the lightest touch, even a simple caress left him frightened and retreated.

       He was aware of three sets of eyes staring at them, but he didn't have the strength to attack again, and he knew that even if he did, Magus alone could easily beat him. He had no chance at all against all three of them, even if he could have used his magic. He opened his eyes and glared at Magus, focusing all his hate in that glare, and he didn't even bother defending against the blow he knew would come. He just curled up in a ball, lips moving, forming the name of one he had lost so very long ago. "_Calluna_" 

- TBC

So, what do you think? I had to give Flea a deeper personality for this fic, because he comes across as rather shallow in the game. Ah, and as for who Calluna is, sore wa himitsu desu. It will be revealed later in the story.


	6. Part 6: Desicions are made.

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger doesn't belong to me. If it did, Flea would be a main character. It belongs to Square and their creative minds. I'm not making any money of this. Don't sue, please?  
  
Author's notes: This is Yaoi! Male/male relationships, that is. Also contains some graphic violence and sexual acts. Hints at non-con sex as well. This isn't beta-ed. Oh yeah; Magus might seem a bit OOC. I was trying to portray his inner despair over loosing Schala.

// = Flashbacks

A Trial of Hearts

By Shaded Mazoku

Part 5: Decisions are made.

* * *

Magus eyed Flea critically. The pink-haired Mystic had been crying for quite a while now, and for some reason, it unsettled Magus. He had known Flea for a long time, yet he'd never seen him cry before. It was just not something Flea did. He screamed at people a lot, sure. If you got him pissed enough, he would throw furniture after you. He'd even kicked Ozzie in the groin once, but he never cried. He never even seemed sad.

Marle was busy nursing her wounded hand, and Lucca was glaring daggers at both him and Flea, so Magus realized that it was up to him to do something. The problem was, he wasn't sure what. He had problems dealing with Flea on the best of days, as he had real big difficulties understanding the cross-dressing magician, and today was not a good day. He was tempted to reach over and shake Flea a bit, but considering what the Mystic did to Marle when she touched him, he figured that he better not try. Getting bitten in the hand was not one of his favorite pastimes.

As it turned out, he didn't really need to do much, because Flea stopped crying all by himself, and used a corner of his once white cloak to dry his eyes. Standing up, he tried to brush some of the dirt of his dress, and for a moment, he reminded Magus of the magician he remembered. Magus wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. He watched as the petite Mystic crossed the floor and walked over to the large, narrow window, perching himself in the sill. 

Marle, who had healed her hand by now, followed him, and carefully reached out to lay a hand on Flea's shoulder. Magus chuckled. You shouldn't do that. Flea doesn't like to be touched. Marle glared at him, and placed her hand on the Mystic. Flea stiffened at once, but didn't react violently as he had when Magus touched him. _Still the vindictive bastard, I see,_ Magus thought and watched Marle's silly attempts to hold a conversation with Flea. 

You can just as well give up, Princess, he couldn't answer you inane chatter even if he wanted to, he said, tucking some of his hair behind his ear where it was supposed to be. See that scar on his throat? His vocal chords have been severed. Marle looked utterly shocked. Giving Flea a look of extreme pity, she turned towards Magus. But why would anyone do something like that to her? Magus, noticing the annoyed twitch Flea's ears got, let a mocking smirk grace his lips. Tell me, Princess, are you always this stupid? Use your brain! Lucca, who had been silent up until this raised her voice. It's to prevent her from casting spells, isn't it? she asked, adjusting her glasses. Magus nodded, and chuckled. But I think we should stop calling Flea a girl. It really pisses him off. 

That comment let him enjoy watching their dumbstruck reactions. Flea really is a boy? Lucca asked incredulously. Magus nodded. Oh, yes. He is. Saying the opposite can get you hurt, he said, recalling the incident with Ozzie's balls again. 

Deciding that he had spent enough time with those stupid girls, he requested his book back from Lucca, who ran off to get it at once, and tried to figure what to do with Flea. He walked over to the Mystic, and cleared his throat to let him know that he was there. The magician turned and gave Magus a very cold glare. Magus ignored it. Well, I'm not sure what to do about you, Flea. I could leave you here of course, in a cell, but I'd rather not. Even though you tried to kill me, you were always the one who treated me the best back when I first came to the Mystics. So, I'll give you a choice. Either, you stay in a cell here, or you can come with me. But, if you do, I will have to bind your life force to mine, so you wont even try to harm me. What will it be? Flea gave him a defeated look, and indicated that he would like to go with him. Magus smiled, satisfied.

He brought Flea to the village closest to his home, and dragged the Mystic to the local tailor. I'm going to leave you here, so you can get something new to wear. Behave, will you? I'll be back for you After that was done; he went to buy some more food. Even if he just had bought a lot of food, most of it had been lost in the fight he had gotten into with Flea. Besides, he needed more if Flea was going to be living with him. The man in the store was staring disbelievingly at him, as he piled the food on the desk. Magus growled, the man was acting all silly. As long as he paid, it wasn't the clerk's job to be noisy. _It's not like it is my fault that Flea only eat fruit and vegetables_, he thought. 

When he came back to the tailor's, he found Flea waiting for him, now wearing a long lavender dress, and the tailor and his wife were both cowering behind the desk. He asked the wife what had happened, and learned that Flea had freaked completely out when the tailor touched him, and that the wife had to promise to do the work instead before he would calm down. Magus paid the two of them, gave Flea a nasty look and pushed the basket into the magician's hands. You can carry this, he said, and got a pineapple in the head as a reward. He had a feeling the next days would be a hell.

-TBC

* * *

Author's note: Sorry about the end, there. I had a dream in which, among other things, Flea threw a pineapple on Magus and called him an insensitive jerk. I just couldn't get it out of my head. Oh, and all the Marle bashing in this chapter is done from Magus' semi P. O. V. I figured he'd be rather annoyed with the perky princess 


	7. Part 7: Remembering

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger doesn't belong to me. If it did, Flea would be a main character. It belongs to Square and their creative minds. I'm not making any money of this. Don't sue, please?  
  
Author's notes: This is Yaoi! Male/male relationships, that is. Also contains some graphic violence and sexual acts. Hints at non-con sex as well. This isn't beta-ed. Oh yeah; Magus might seem a bit OOC. I was trying to portray his inner despair over loosing Schala.

/……/ = Flashbacks…

A Trial of Hearts

By Shaded Mazoku

Part 7: Remembering

* * *

When he first brought Flea to live with him, Magus thought it would be a hell. Now, a week and a half later, he knew it. The Mystic was going out of his way to be troublesome, never giving him a peaceful moment to study his books or work on his magic. If it hadn't been for the spell that bound Flea's life force to his, he would have had to worry about attacks, also. He'd forgotten how downright vicious Flea could be when he felt like it.

Unlike most Mystics, Flea wasn't much of a bully. Instead, he was sneaky, cunning, and surprisingly stealthy. While Ozzie had been the general leader, and Slash had been mainly in charge of the army, Flea had his own little group, composed of Naga-ettes, Vamps and Jugglers. The group had been immensely loyal to Flea, who was a very good leader. They had been responsible for the intelligence work, an effective and organized spy network. It had surprised him when he discovered just how Flea had risen to such a high rank. The Mystic was an actor, after all, and a good one at that. He had everyone believing he was a ditz. Even Magus had been fooled.

/A meeting was being held and Magus hand his three Generals were collected around a table. Ozzie was eating, and rather noisily, too. Slash was explaining what the troops were practicing. Flea was looking dreadfully bored, and was occupying himself by painting his nails a shimmering silvery pink; ignoring the looks the three others sent him. Magus wanted to kill all three of them. "_Why can't they ever pay attention? Are all Mystics inheritably stupid or something?_" he wondered briefly. "Do any of you have any useful information?" he asked, but his question was being ignored because Ozzie and Flea had started arguing. Growling, Magus got up and left. 

Later that night, Magus encountered Flea in the library, which was an unusual occurrence. The Mystic was reading a book about dragons, for some reason. Magus decided to ask Flea what the point of ruining the meeting like that was. It wasn't the first time it had happened. "Flea? What was the point of that display earlier? I know you started it. You're both idiots, but compared to Ozzie, you're a genius." Flea yawned slightly, and battered his lashes cutely. "He was being disgusting…" Magus growled, furious that the Mystic could be so incredibly dense. "Give me one reason not to kill you right here and now!" he snapped, and expected a reason like "I'm too pretty" or something like that. 

Flea rose from his chair, and looked up, straight into Magus' eyes. "Because, Sir Magus, I am the only one in this castle who can tell you exactly what is going on in Guardia. As we speak, the two most trusted of my 'followers' are in disguise at Guardia Castle, one as a handmaiden to Leene, and the other as a colonel. The rapport to me everyday, in order to keep me updated. That is why you shouldn't kill me. I do command some respect, you know." Magus stared at him. "Why on earth haven't you told me about this before? This could be an important advantage for us!" 

Flea looked at him, lips curved into something that could only be described as a wicked smirk. "Because, Sir Magus, it is my insurance that you will not get rid of me. I know I'm no match for you physically, magically or mentally, but when it comes to dealing with people, I am the best. I have people loyal to me many places, Sir Magus, even several here, in the castle." He smirked wider. 

"You, Sir Magus, are a lot of things, but you are not a Mystic. And even if you were, you'd still be mortal. If you decide to kill me, you might just find that one day, something you eat will be poisoned. There is this poison, derived from a very rare flower, that comes in two parts, one from the petals and one from the roots. Apart, they're harmless, but together, the kill in a ten minutes. And it hurts like hell, too. If anything were to happen to me, you might find that your food is nice, and your wine is excellent, but together, they can kill you…" Flea's voice trailed off, and he smiled again, a knowing little half-smile, before he left. /

That had been when he realized that there was far more to Flea than flirting and yelling. The Mystic had learned how to survive by using his own skills, and even if it was a sly and sneaky way to live, it was somewhat admirable. Magus guessed it was the only way a physically weak Mystic like Flea could get a position as a General. The Mystics, despite what many humans thought, were not really evil. But they were firm believer in survival of the fittest. He had believed, as had most others, that the only reason that Flea had lived to adulthood was his looks, but obviously, he was wrong.

That didn't mean that Flea was any less annoying, though, and Magus gritted his teeth in order to not storm off down the hall and strangle the Mystic as revenge for all the nasty things he had been forced to endure that week. He was about willing to swear that not only was Lavos easier to deal with than Flea, he also made far more sense. 

Flea looked around himself, a small smile appearing on his lips. It had taken one and a half week, but the room Magus had given him was finally starting to look proper. He might feel miserable but he would not let himself and his surroundings reflect that feeling. 

The bed had been the first to go. There had been an old, musty bed with a solid headboard standing in one corner. It had looked at lot like the bed he had been tied up on when his captors didn't need him. Once Magus had left him alone in there, he had panicked and set fire to the bed by accident. A canopy bed, with beautiful red velvet cloth, was now standing in its place. The last pieces of cloth that was left from making the canopy had been used to make curtains for the two windows in the room. 

Other items he had added included a black marble desk, a large bookshelf, a full sized mirror and a large wardrobe. He had also gotten a fluffy crimson and pink carpet for the floor. Some flowerpots and vases had been added here and there just for decoration. Flea was fond of flowers. They were so beautiful, and most of them smelled wonderful. He liked beauty. He always had. When he had been one of Magus' Generals, he had surrounded himself with it. He had trained the prettiest of the Naga-ettes to be his personal helpers, although all the Naga-ettes had been members of his little crowd. 

Flea was, in fact, quite intelligent. He wasn't nearly as brilliant as Magus or that human girl, Lucca, but he was cunning and sly and had quickly learned that he had a gift when it came to dealing with people, even without his extraordinary ability to charm. During his years of working as a Magician, first for Norz, then Ozzie and finally for Magus, he had established a network of spies, informants and safe houses. They had always served him well. It had given him advantages over just about anyone. He knew things about people that they themselves did not know. 

He had known that although the king of Guardia loved his Leene, he was like putty in the hands of pretty girls. He had known that Leene was a bit too partial to sweets, and that a cake was seldom left for long in the castle, a handy thing to know if he ever needed to poison her. He had, although it had taken time to find anything on him, learned that the oh-so-admired Sir Cyrus was in love with that little green-haired friend of his. That, however, was something he had never passed on to Magus. Love was not something that should be twisted by anyone. 

Love was, to Flea, worse than torture. It left one weak and vulnerable. It was a state he nearly had succumbed once, and he would not let it affect him again. He let his hand slip down to his back, tracing invisible scars that should have been there, but weren't. Had it not been for love, he would never have been caught, never used as a toy by those other Mystics. 

He picked an orchid out of a vase on his desk, and twirled it in his hands. His mother had compared him to a flower, and she wasn't the only one. Flea snorted in disgust. Flowers were beautiful and decorative, true, but they were extremely fragile. And no one would call Flea the Magician fragile. Not if they valued their lives.

-TBC…

* * *

Author's note: This chapter nearly drove me crazy. That's what I get for writing while listening to Kefka's theme…


	8. Part 8: Forging Friendship

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger doesn't belong to me. If it did, Flea would be a main character. It belongs to Square and their creative minds. I'm not making any money of this. Don't sue, please?  
  
Author's notes: This is Yaoi! Male/male relationships, that is. Also contains some graphic violence and sexual acts. Hints at non-con sex as well. This isn't beta-ed. Oh yeah; Magus might seem a bit OOC. I was trying to portray his inner despair over loosing Schala.

/……/ = Flashbacks…

A Trial of Hearts

By Shaded Mazoku

Part 7: Forging Friendship

Lucca looked at the house Magus lived in now, settled in a small holt outside the nearest village. It was a nice house, recently built and well maintained. Magus had moved in once it had been clear that he was stuck in 1000 AD and it hardly bore signs of the wizard living there. But one of the windows had gotten a pair of red curtains since she was there last, and she figured that it was Flea's room. It gave the house some impression of being lived in. Lucca smiled. Hopefully, Flea's presence would be good for Magus. The man could be incredibly dour at times. Lucca didn't really know Flea, but the Mystic struck her as being far more cheerful than his former employer. 

     She sighed and knocked on the door. She wasn't quite sure why she was here, but she knew that she wanted to talk to Flea. Magus opened the door and glared at her. Even though she felt a little frightened, she refused to show it, and gave the wizard a friendly smile. _Remember, Lucca: his bark is worse than his bite_. Still, she had the sudden urge to ask if Flea could come out and play, but she fought it back, knowing that Magus wouldn't appreciate the joke. "Can I come in?" she asked instead. Magus half growled, but he stepped aside, letting her enter. 

    The house was as impersonal on the inside as on the outside. The only thing that seemed to be Magus' was the piles of old books lying scattered around the living room. "What do you want?" Magus asked, showing some books of a chair and sitting down. Lucca remained standing. "I wanted to talk to Flea, actually." Magus snorted at that, and flipped one of the huge books open. "Go ahead and try. But don't come running to me if he throws something at you." Lucca had a sudden mental image of Flea throwing books at Magus and had to fight back a grin. "He's in his room upstairs," Magus said after a while, before turning all his attention to the book. 

     Lucca quickly ascended the stairs, trying to find something to say to Flea. _What does one say to a Mystic who can't answer?_ She wondered silently. She found the door easily, mostly because someone, most likely Flea, had written "Fuck off, Magus," on the door. Flea's handwriting, Lucca reflected, was very pretty. She knocked lightly on the door. On the inside, something fragile hit the door and shattered. "Flea?" She called. "Can I come in? I promise I'm not Magus." The room on the other side was silent. Lucca waited, still not sure why she was really there. Finally, the door was opened and Flea looked out at her. He was wearing a long black dress that seemed to be a mourning gown, and his long hair had been braided. Lucca smiled carefully. "Hi!" She said cheerfully. 

     Flea moved away and let her into the room, walking over to the window and stood still, staring out. Lucca walked over the broken remains of a vase and sat down on a stool standing by a low table. She sat there in silence, looking around. The room was far more personal than any of the other rooms of the house, and it looked lived in, unlike the others. On the table next to her was a collection of sketches. Lucca picked one of them up. It was a sketch of Magus, sitting by a desk and reading. The sketch was very detailed, but it wasn't in one piece. It had been torn in two at the middle. Curious now, Lucca picked up a few more sketches. One was of Slash and Ozzie trying to look menacing, one was of an unknown man with long hair in a ponytail and a very kind expression, one was of the same man asleep and the last one seemed to be of Flea. It was a young, seemingly female Mystic sitting on a chair. The model was maybe six or seven. 

     "Did you draw these?" Lucca asked, looking at Flea. The Mystic turned slowly and looked at the sketches in her hand. He nodded, quickly crossing the floor. Lucca smiled. "They're very good. You're good at drawing," she said. Flea visibly relaxed and pulled out another stool to sit on. Lucca held out the sketch of the young Mystic. "Is this you?" She asked. Flea looked at the drawing and shook his head. He reached over to the table and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. _"It's not me. It's my sister,"_ he wrote, and showed to Lucca. Lucca blinked. "Your sister?" Flea nodded. _"Yes. My sister. Her name was Calluna. We were twins."_ Lucca looked at the sketch again. Now that she knew that it wasn't Flea, she could see slight differences, but she was willing to bet that they must have looked really identical. "What happened to her?" She asked. Flea shrugged. _"One day, she never came home. We found her dead in the forest the next day. Humans killed her,"_ he wrote. _"She was eight."_ Lucca felt herself pale. She knew that things like that could happen, but it still shocked her. 

     _"Don't worry," _Flea wrote. _"She's better off where she's now." _ He took the sketch carefully out of Lucca's hands and placed it on the table. _"The world is no place for innocents like her."_ He looked down at the sketch. Lucca quickly took the next sketch, the one of the man with the ponytail, and showed it to Flea, not wanting to lose his attention just yet. "Who is this?" She asked. Flea looked at the sketch and smiled slightly. _"His name was Shard,"_ He wrote quickly, a fond expression on his face. _"He used to be my teacher. He taught me all I know about magic."_  He traced his fingers idly along the lines of the drawing. "_He's dead now,_" he wrote with the other hand. "_All of my friends are._" Lifting his hand, he looked down at his now dark gray fingertips, where excess graphite had stained the skin. 

      Lucca looked at Flea. The Mystic was watching her, too, with an unreadable expression on his face. She suppressed a shiver. _Those eyes of his are pretty creepy,_ she thought. Flea's eyes were deep pink, but every now and then, a swirling black pattern would be visible there, disappearing again so swiftly that one couldn't be sure it had really been there. Lucca was very smart, and knew a lot about many subjects, but when it came to Mystics, she knew next to nothing, and she hated not knowing. Perhaps that was why she was here. She wanted to learn about the Mystic race, and there was nobody who could teach her more than a Mystic could. And perhaps, just perhaps, there was something she could do for Flea in return.

      "Have you considered making some new friends?" She asked. Flea's expression immediately changed to a guarded, suspicious one. Lucca held her hands up, signaling that she meant no harm. "I don't mean that you should just move on and forget your old friends, but it could do you good to have some company. Company you like." She smiled mischievously. "Company that isn't Magus." Flea's lip twitched at that. Lucca took that as a good sign and continued. "He isn't exactly the most talkative company one can get, and getting glared at gets old so quickly." This time, Flea did smile. Only for a small second, but it was there. Lucca smiled, too, and looked around the room. "Have you even left the room since you came?" She asked. Flea shrugged and wrote something on the parchment before holding it up so that Lucca could read it. "_Only to use the bathroom and to… …decorate my door a little."_ Lucca grinned. "I saw that." She got up and looked around some more. "You have made it very pretty here, but a change in scenery wouldn't hurt." Turning around, she looked down at Flea, who was still sitting. "Do you want to go for a walk?" 

       Flea looked up at Lucca, his eyes widening. _Go outside?_ He asked himself silently, considering the idea. He had tried to hide it from Lucca, but he was terrified of what was on the outside of the house. People stared at him, and while it had amused him once, it scared him now. It made him remember, and he didn't want to remember. He had worked up a strong shield against the memories, but he was afraid it would crumble if he went outside. He didn't have a shelter there, nowhere to hide when the memories came. The very idea frightened him.

      But on the other side, Lucca had a point. He could do with company that wasn't Magus. He could definitely do with a change in scenery. He had been in this room for three weeks now, only going outside these walls to go to the bathroom or get some food from downstairs. The few times he did that, Magus had glared at him at first, and then ignored him completely. It suited him just fine. Flea had been busy furnishing his room and adding to his wardrobe, having realized that while he couldn't use any major spells, conjuring dead things, like stone, fabric and wood, was still easy. 

      Finally, he looked at Lucca and nodded, but he sharply wrote "_no towns"_ on the parchment. Lucca nodded. "No towns. We can go for a walk in the forest or something," she said, and headed for the door. Flea got up and followed her, his dress making rustling sounds as he walked. 

       Magus looked oddly at them as they came downstairs, Lucca with a smile on her face and Flea busy with lifting his skirt so he wouldn't trip. "Where are you going?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Lucca grinned. "For a walk," she replied happily. Magus growled and reached out to take Flea's wrist. Neither he nor Lucca had expected Flea's reaction. The Mystic hissed and recoiled from the touch, lashing out with his hand at the same time. This happened so fast that Lucca didn't understand what was happening before Magus pulled back, four bloody lines trailing down his face where Flea's claws had met his skin. Flea was clutching his head in pain, the effects of the spell Magus had used to bind his life force setting in, giving him a terrible headache. Lucca blinked in surprise, not understanding what just happened. Flea hissed again, and grabbed his cloak of the hanger, before walking out the door. Magus was cursing under his breath, rummaging through his supplies for a tonic. Lucca just shrugged and followed Flea out the door.

The forest was silent that day, and very peaceful, so Lucca saw no reason to say anything to Flea just yet. The Mystic was still fuming silently, but she was willing to bet that if he could speak, he'd be cursing Magus loudly. She occupied herself with looking at him instead. Flea was beautiful. Lucca couldn't help but think so, even though he was even more feminine than she was, and she was a girl. He moved with a grace that she could only dream of achieving someday, and his feet made no sound on the ground. His hips swayed slightly when he walked, giving him an illusion of the broad hips of a woman. This combined with him being very slender, made him look like he had feminine curves. The last time she had faced Flea, in Ozzie's fortress, the Mystic had actually had breasts. That must have been either an illusion or some sort of a shapeshifted form, related to his magic, because he had none now. He still looked like a woman, though, and if Magus hadn't told her that Flea was male, she would never have guessed. 

       Realizing that Flea was watching her, she blushed slightly, looking at the ground. She hadn't meant to stare. Flea didn't seem angry, though. Just curious, like a child trying to learn how its favorite toy worked. He sat down on an old log, covered in soft green moss, absentmindedly spreading his skirts out around him. Lucca decided to follow his lead and found a large stub to sit on. They were sitting opposed to each other now, looking at each other. Flea's eyes had that hint of black again, swirling around in his eyes like a whirlwind. He held out one hand, fingertips still stained gray by graphite, and concentrated slightly. A parchment and quill appeared in his hands. Lucca gasped. "I thought you couldn't do magic anymore," she said, looking at the magician. Flea smiled slightly. "_I can't do spells anymore. But conjuring things is easy. It only takes concentration,"_ he wrote quickly, leaving elegant trails on the parchment. "_Conjuring isn't considered real magic, because not all magicians can use it. Instead, it's considered an independent skill."_ He tilted his head to the side, causing his braid to fall over his shoulder, trailing down his chest. The black velvet of his cloak was utterly black, and barely shone in the sunlight at all. Instead, it seemed to be absorbing the light. _"Magus can't do it," _he wrote, and his handwriting looked decidedly smug as he wrote. 

       Lucca grinned. "I bet he really hates that," she said. "He seems like the kind of person who hates it when someone can do something he can't." Flea nodded, and leaned back against a nearby tree. He did feel a bit better. _Maybe talking really helps,_ he thought and closed his eyes, feeling fairly content. Lucca got up and walked over to where the Mystic was sitting, seating herself next to him, so that she could see what he was writing better. "Flea?" She asked, looking at him. "Do you think you could teach me about Mystics?"

-TBC

Author's Note: Yes, I do realize that I haven't updated in ages. I've been busy. I wish I hadn't been, but that's Real Life for you. A waste of time, but it can't be avoided. Flea's dress in this is inspired by Mana of Moi dix Mois, formerly of Malice Mizer, and his beautiful Shiroi Hada ni Kuruu Ai to Kanashimi no Rondo costume. I love his style… …Next chapter will be filled with my made up Mystic lore…


	9. A note to the readers

A note to the readers:

I was reading through this fic the other day and I don't understand what I was on when I wrote it. Apart from the mediocre writing style, the characters seem very OOC to me, and the plot has major holes in it. Despite this, I won't delete the fic, because I do like the idea. However, the newer chapters will be darker, more in character, and better written. I'll probably rewrite the older chapters some day, too. In seven days, it will be exactly three years since I started writing this fic, and I've gotten a lot better at writing since, or so I feel.

- Shaded Mazoku


End file.
